


Anything, Anything

by RaeVan87



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-14 01:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeVan87/pseuds/RaeVan87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After your mother and father were killed by a demon when you were a baby, Crowley took you in. Now that you were an adult, you find your life and urges a lot more complicated that you bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Requests welcomed.

**Anything, Anything**

 

                Living in Hell was exactly what is sounded like… Hell. You dealt with it well enough for many years, but when you got to that age where you wanted more freedom and adventure, you begged and pleaded to move topside.

                Crowley had been your guardian, and for all intents and purposes, your parental figure for as long as you could remember. Story goes that your mother had sold her soul for something or another and when it came time for it to be collected, your father protested, getting himself killed. Your mother’s soul was collected anyway, leaving you orphaned and alone. Crowley had never been the paternal sort, but far be it from him to just leave you there. So he took you in, and now that he was the King of Hell it made things both easier and much more difficult for you.

                As the ward of the King, this meant that you were often in danger. Anyone with a grudge against Crowley, or aspirations of power, often sought you out as leverage or a bargaining tool. You constantly had to have a babysitter, regardless of where you were, which is why you fought so hard to move topside. If your life was going to be a living hell, at the very least you shouldn’t have to live it actually in Hell.

                After much debate, several broken objects and a mile long string of expletives he finally relented, getting you a penthouse apartment with the stipulation that he had demons around to guard you at all hours of the night and day. You couldn’t imagine said demons liked being put in charge of watching you, but you never asked and they never complained, not that complaining would likely end well for them in any event.

                Your new found freedom brought with it its own challenges, you wanted to interact, see people, date even. But when you’re followed around by two hulking masses of muscle everywhere you went, it made it hard to meet anyone. You slowly grew to enjoy your own company, collecting books and music, having movie marathons on Friday nights and just finding ways to keep yourself busy and content.

                Crowley visited regularly, now that you were topside and on your own. You prided yourself on keeping your luxurious apartment clean for his visits and having his favorite scotch on hand, presenting yourself with a sophisticated manor that your time alone had brought out in you. He would never say it, but he seemed to take a small matter of satisfaction in how you grew up.

                Lately his visits had been fewer and far between, but they often left you feeling… somewhat frustrated. He treated you the way he always had, bringing you gifts and doting on you, in his own manner. But something was changing in you him, the way he watched you, addressed you, flirtatious intent written all over his expressions but never his actions or words. His gaze began to linger on your features and you were quick to notice. You’d purposely lean one way or another, just to have his eyes on you and watch the little quirks of his mouth that silently spoke volumes.  The attention he was paying you was intoxicating and you only found yourself wanting more.

               Come Friday night you lounged in your t-shirt and panties on the black leather chaise, staring out the bay window at the city lights. Boredom began creeping up in your brain and you knew you needed to quell it before you succumbed to it completely. Your Ipod gently crooned from where it was docked and you smiled to yourself. Slipping off the smooth leather you crossed the room, tapping your Ipod to life and breezing over the list of songs with your finger. Finding the one you had been searching for; you tap it and feel the smile on your face growing wider.

              The music started softly at first and you dragged the volume higher, feeling the sway begin in your hips. The Divinyls filled the room with music and began singing ‘I Touch Myself’ with you mouthing along to the words. You spin around, moving lightly across the floor as you danced sexily with the beat, poutily lip syncing. Propping one of the pillows up against the couch you pretended it was a man, jokingly giving him a sensual lap dance, while chuckling at your own foolishness.

              Mid-way through your performance you were startled by gentle applause coming from the other side of the room.

              “So, this is what you do in your spare time?” Crowley asked with a cheeky grin.

              While you calm your rattled nerves, you find are more annoyed than embarrassed, wishing that he hadn’t caught you dancing in your underwear.

              “I thought you promised you’d use the front door?” you ask casually as you turn the music down, walking passed him to the bedroom to grab your silk robe.

              “Sorry, darling. Daddy found himself in a bit of a tight situation and I’m a little pressed for time” he murmured by way of apology.

              You returned to the room, cinching the robe around your waist, and fluffing your hair back out. An elegantly wrapped bundle lay across your kitchen counter and you looked from it back to him.

              “What’s that?” you implore, gesturing to it with a sideways nod of your head. You feel significantly bolder than you usually do and your eyes stay locked onto his.

              “For you, darling. Just a small token, really” he replied smoothly, eyes hesitantly leaving you to stray to the bottle of scotch on the metal tray beside him.

              As you reached for the bundle he poured himself a drink and carefully regarded you. The dark red silk ribbon on the outside slid off with ease and the paper folded away to reveal a bouquet of lavender colored Dutch roses. While he’s bought you many gifts before, flowers have never been one of them.

              “Feeling sentimental?” you tease, bringing them to your nose to smell them, looking over the petals at his reaction.

              “Keep that up and it will be the last time, pet” he muses, though you can see a smirk threatening to break through.

              You roll your eyes and go fetch a vase for the flowers, setting them atop your glass dining room table, standing back to admire them.

              “They are beautiful, thank you” you insist over-dramatically, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. The instant you do you feel a strong stirring in your stomach and pull back suddenly, heat flooding to your face. You’d shown him such affections before but this time it felt different, so much more intimate.

              “Yes, well, figured you could use something to liven up this place a bit” he insisted, brushing off your gratitude. He seated himself on one of the bar stools that lined your counter, and patted the one beside him.

              Quirking an eyebrow you stared at him, but he was watching the amber liquid in his glass as he swirled it about, you tentatively sat on the stool, attention fully on him.

              “There’s been… some complications, darling. May need you to come back home for awhile” he divulged, still not looking at you. It was obvious that he was fully aware of how badly you did not want to go back there and was being uncharacteristically gentle about breaking the news to you.

              “I won’t ask why, because I know that you won’t tell me… But why couldn’t I just stay here? It’s as safe as anywhere” you negate logically.

              “I’m afraid it’s not, not at the moment” he drained his words away with the last of his scotch and motioned with his hand for you to pass him the bottle.

              You started to notice the cracks in his meticulous maintained exterior and you grew concerned, sliding the bottle to him and watching silently as he poured, a light tremble in his hand. If being in Hell was safer than your own guarded apartment, then something was definitely wrong.

              “If you think that’s what’s best of course I’ll go” you relented, though it caused you physical pain to know that you would have to go back, especially considering you had no idea for how long.

              Crowley’s gaze turned to you; he cupped your chin gentle, moving your face slightly side to side as if inspecting you. “That’s my girl” he grinned softly.

              Your hand seemed to involuntarily go to his face, stroking the stubble on his cheek that had grown slightly longer than you were accustomed to. The roughness slid under your fingers and he studied you curiously. Then tension building between you was palpable and you could feel your breath quickening. The change in his gaze was measurable, switching from thinly veiled worry to a primal desire. You had hoped that the feelings budding in you were being requited, but you hadn’t dared imagine that they actually would be.

              “It’ll be fine” you utter, breaking the silence. “Let’s go home.”

_~              *              ~              *_

              You regretted your actions the moment you returned, and now a week later you lounged lazily across the throne, legs dangling over the side with a book in your lap.

              Crowley was off doing goodness knows what and you hadn’t seen him since the day you came back. Every time you asked one of his minions about his whereabouts they would give you the briefest answer that wouldn’t be construed as impolite enough to earn them punishment. You busied yourself with whatever you could find in order to keep the remainder of your sanity in check.

                “You look almost as good on that throne as I do” a husky voice purred above your head.

                A smirk crept to your lips and you tipped your head up to address him. Your skirt had hiked up to mid-thigh and you were wearing nothing more than a tank top with a thin v-neck, button down sweater over it. From his angle he had a perfect view down your top and that fact had not escaped his notice.

                “Almost as good” you repeated, swinging your legs back down and sitting upright, doing your best impression of his typical pose on the throne.

                “Now, now, sweetheart, don’t be cheeky” he lightly scolded.

                You’d missed the sound of his gravelly voice and you heart thumped embarrassingly as you stood up from the throne before him.

                “Is it safe for me to go back?” you press, fidgeting with your fingers. For awhile you’d been nervous that Crowley might not come back and you’d be hard pressed to believe that any of the other demons would give a damn if you ever went topside again. Now that he was back you wanted out in the worst way.

                Pursing his lips slightly his eyes narrowed, mulling over his answer. “I suppose there’s no harm in it…” he conceded, snapping his fingers and bringing you both to your apartment.

                A sigh of relief escaped your lips and you close your eyes, taking a moment to breathe in the smells of home that you had missed for the last week.

                “There’s no place like home” you mumbled happily, opening your eyes.

                “Yes, well, best be getting back I suppose” Crowley uttered, raising his hand.

                “Wait a second” you began, holding out your hand. He looked slightly taken aback but tilted his head quizzically at you. “I haven’t seen you for a week and you’re just going to pop in and pop out?”

                You weren’t sure why you said it, whether you were just relieved that he was alright, whether you craved his company, or it was something else entirely, but the words tumbled out before you could control them.

                “Just can’t get enough of my company, can you?” he asks mockingly, but his stance wavered from stiff to casual.

                All of this pussy-footing around was wearing thin on you. You wanted him, wanted him in the worst way possible and you didn’t know how it had escaped your notice before. His eyes trailed after you, his jaw set and slackened with indecision and the look was deliciously vulnerable on him.

                You had him here, this was your territory, and it was up to you to make the move.

                “I want more than your company” you begin boldly, the words sounding a lot more confident than you felt.

                He blanched briefly by the sudden change in atmosphere, blinking quickly and crinkling his brow, “Is that so?” he pressed, the husk in his voice dropping.

                You could only bring yourself to nod, crossing slowly to stand before him.

                “And what more do you want from me, darling?” he practically purrs at you and you know he’s feeling the same things you are.

                The arousal erupted in your chest, your heart’s rhythm bumping to an up-tempo beat. It spread down to your stomach as the warm, fluttering feeling began to percolate before finally seeping lower into your loins, flushing them with heat.

                You leaned up to his ear, bringing your mouth to his earlobe and you whispered, “Everything.”

                He looks sideways at you, leaning his head back to catch your eyes. He licks his lower lip and grins wickedly, “Oh, Sweetheart, all you had to do was ask.”

                Your heart skips a beat but you throw caution to the wind and let your lips urgently find his. Feeling as though your breath was knocked out of you at the sheer gratification of finally doing what you had been aching to do. His lips matched yours, pressing with equal desire and crazed enthusiasm as his hands held you possessively to him. His tongue enters your mouth, pushing against yours challengingly and you reciprocate in spades.

                Gripping his tie you pull him, easing yourselves backwards until the back of your legs connects with your chaise. Holding on to his lapels you turn him around, unwilling to let your lips part from his even for a moment as if that would wake you from this bewildering dream. You fingers rake hungrily over him, roughly combing over span of his chest and stomach.

                Not to be bothered by buttons he lifts your tank top and sweater over your head, baring your skin to the cool air and you feel your nipples stiffen under the fabric of your bra. His lips instantly find your neck and you gasp at the intense sensation. You can feel him smirking against your skin, knowing full well that he delighted in having this effect on you.

                Though his lips sent streams of pleasure flooding through you, you found yourself wanting only to please him, wanting him to realize how badly you wanted this to happen. A quick flick of your wrist causes his belt to unbuckle and a twist of your arms pulls it swiftly off of him. The button of his trousers shortly follows and you pull away from him, leaning your shoulders back to tauntingly quirk your eyebrow. Sinking to your knees you drag his pants and boxer briefs down along with you, pushing him to sit on your chaise before you.

                His length was already half erect as you pulled his pants from his feet, you swallow hard as the sheer size of it is rather intimidating. Looking at him from under your lashes you find him grinning confidently down at you, showing no bashfulness over what he sold his soul for.

                Your excitement builds as you gripped the base of his shaft and slowly brought your mouth to him, letting your tongue find him first. Slithering your tongue over the head you hear him exhale with an air of contentedness, making you feel pleased with yourself. You trace patterns teasingly, running your tongue across the thick vein underneath as he grows steadily harder under your touch. Lowering your jaw you accept him into your mouth, gliding you moistened lips around the head. Your hand works in perfect unison with your mouth as you move your head deliberately up and down, pacing yourself and increasingly taking more and more of him into your throat.

                A groan of sinful pleasure rumbles in his chest as he strokes your hair affectionately.

                “That’s a good girl” he praises breathily.

                His plaudits fueled the fires building in you and you could feel the wetness accumulating between your legs. Your nipples painfully taught under the confinements of your bra as they ached for gratification.

                Crowley’s breath grows heavier and you keep your ministrations steady, feeling the width of his cock flex against your hand and mouth. You are certain he’s close.

                Without warning he growls primally, grabbing you and flipping you down onto the chaise, falling over you like a beast upon its prey. You are startled but pleasantly so and gasp excitedly when his mouth is at your neck once more, fervently kissing and sucking at your rapacious flesh. His solid mast eagerly poking at your stomach and you felt the immense distance of the clothing still between you.

                Yanking his tie you made quick work of removing it, casting it aside and tearing into the buttons of his shirt before it had even hit the floor.

                His hand travels up your skirt, stroking your thigh with deft fingers. He hooks the hem of your panties and hurriedly pulls, tearing the fabric away from you while his tongue languidly travels up the side of your neck, leaving a moist trail that causes you to shiver. He pauses to nibble at your ear lobe before his lips work their way back down you again, kissing the tops of your breasts still confined by your bra.

                You arch your back to reach behind you, needing to rid yourself of the loathsome physical prison.

                “Allow me, darling” he croons into your ear.

                While his left hand massaged your breast through the fabric, his right hand dipped behind you, skillfully unfastening your bra with a snap of his fingers. The feeling of freedom was instant and as the straps slid down from your shoulders he snatched the burden away, discarding it onto the floor.

                Kneeling back to properly appreciate you, his hands cupped your breasts, massaging and kneading them with his palms.

                “Mmm” he moaned approvingly as he half smirked.

                You scolded yourself not to, but out of unrelenting desired you squirmed under his touch, wanting so much more of him.

                “Not so fast, love. Can’t let you have everything you want.  It’ll spoil you” he taunted naughtily. Bringing his mouth to your nipple he teased it gently with his teeth, pulling and releasing the hardened nub.

                You tried to reach to him, to pull him closer to you as you silently begged for more, but his hands came to your wrists and dragged them over your head, locking your them together. He secures them in one of his own hands and brings the other back to your nipple, rubbing it between his thumb and middle finger.

                Your back arcs into his touch as your body screams for attention and you cannot suppress the whimper that falls from your lips.

                “Come now, darling. Am I not a fair King?” he asks probingly, bringing his mouth to your nipple once more, his tongue flicking over it.

                An unintelligible noise surfaces from your throat by way of answer and you bite your lip. The heat of his tongue against your nipple sends continuous waves of pleasure through you.

                “Sorry, I didn’t catch that” he mumbles against your skin. Pulling his lips into a tight circle around your nipple and sucking, making coherent thought all the more difficult.

                “Yes, you are fair” you whine, halfheartedly struggling against the bondage of his hand around your wrists.

                “Do I not give you want you want?” he continued, the stubble on his chin scratching over your breast as he spoke.

                “Yes!” you repeat recklessly, bringing your legs around the back of his knees.

                The tip of his cock grazes your slick opening, but he is clearly not done toying with you. He maneuvers his waist so his length slides between your folds, brushing up and down over your clit causing you to twitch with each contact. His tongue and lips still suckling at your breast you could do little more than moan in the exquisite agony he was putting you through.

                At last you felt him near your opening, pressing between your walls with maddening slowness, savoring how snuggly you fit around him. His eyes closed with bliss and you let out a gasp. He felt even bigger than you had imagined but your body conformed to him, as if catering specifically to his shape. His grip on your wrists tightened and he sank down into you and you both reveled in the euphoric moment.

                His lips worked their way back up your chest and neck, ultimately finding your lips again and he kissed you with renewed, frenzied passion.

                Your hands still above your head, you could do little more than return his kisses, moaning against his mouth as his leisurely pace quickened slightly. His hips rocked against yours and his length pressed deep inside you. His width was great enough that it rubbed gingerly against your g-spot, making you dizzy with delectation.

                It was almost too much, even just the weight of him on top of you was more gratifying that you could have possibly imagined. His body seemed to hone in on your every need. His lips moving to your neck, finding the impossibly sensitive spot behind your ear. The hand that bound your wrists gently squeezed and massaged, though never slackening its grip. His cock not only filled you up but graced your favorable spots with its attentions as well.

                Your body began to tremble, legs quaking from the complete sensory overload and you wanted to cry out. His breathing became more ragged as he panted in your ear, thrusting harder and faster into you with the urgency of a crazed man.

                Heat flooded through you as a deep blush began in your loins and face, bleeding through your body until it met up in the center. Your fingers clenched, biting into the palms of your hands as you struggled to hold on.

                “Come on, darling… Ladies first” he urged between heavy breaths.

                You not only took the Lord’s name in vain, but you called out to every single God, Saint, Angel, Profit, Apostle, and Deity that you could remember. The world crashed in around you, ears ringing and static clouding your vision. You came hard, your walls squeezing tightly around him and you could feel his length pulse, pumping his seed into you as his thrusting waned.

                You pant quietly to catch your breath, not realizing you had been holding it and your body melted to the curve of the lounger.

                “That’s my girl” he praised, kissing your forehead and hovering above you a moment.

                You smiled wearily up at him, feeling exhausted and utterly spent but so far beyond satisfied.

                As he removes his length from you and lifts himself off the chaise you find yourself already missing the feeling of having him inside you. He collects his clothes off of the floor and begins to redress. You lay watching him, still wearing your skirt and the tattered remains of your panties. His clothes are remarkably unmarred from being strewn in a crumpled heap on the floor, and when he has his pants and shirt done up he turns back towards you. Grabbing your robe that had been laying nearby he hands it to you, chuckling quietly.

                You find yourself wondering if this was just a one time thing, that he would leave you with the promise of calling you in the morning and then playing it off as if nothing happened between you. Accepting the robe you slip it over your shoulder and hold it around you, but you make no move to get up, only silently watching him.

                He notices the blissful blush receding from your cheeks and smiles, looking down at the ground.

                “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easy” he teases in his typical manner.

                You huff a laugh at your own assumptions, “So you’ll be back then?” You hoped your insecurities didn’t sounds as loud to his ears as they did to yours.

                His jaw set firmly but his smile quirked his lips playfully, “Darling, after that you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.”

                He winks at you before snapping his fingers, disappearing from your living room and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

                Laying back in the lounger a wide smile spreads across your face and you stare up at the ceiling, letting the lingering sensations of your orgasm work their way through you.

                And not a moment later your front door came crashing open…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters ruin your post-coital high and realize you might have information they need. They take you along with them and when Crowley meets up with you again a few days later you find you have some catching up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Smutty business. Bit of Daddykink. Sex in the backseat of a car. Nothing outrageous.
> 
> A/N: Thank you all so much for reading, you are wonderful and your feedback means the world to me. Accepting any requests I can get into, I’ll try anything.

**Anything, Anything Part 2**

_“Okay, what is it tonight?_

_Please just tell me what the hell is wrong._

_Do you want to eat, do you want to sleep, do you want to drown?_

_Just settle down, settle down, settle down”_

_Anything, Anything - Dramarama_

 

 

                No one, aside from Crowley, used your front door. Not even the demons that stood guard outside of it. Now it was hanging off it’s hinges beside two men poised for a fight. Scrambling to your feet you quickly try to weigh your fight or flight options, though neither of them seemed in your favor. You’d never seen these men in your life but it only took a moment for you to realize who they were.

                Winchesters.

                At that realization your tensions relaxed, knowing they wouldn’t hurt you, and irritation settled in as you pulled your robe tighter around you, rolling your eyes and heading towards the bottle of scotch on the kitchen counter.

                They looked mildly surprised, as if they were expecting someone else as they followed you to the kitchen.

                “Where is he? Where’s Crowley?” the shorter one barked from behind you. You intentionally kept your back turned to them in displeasure.

                “I’m sure I have no idea who you’re talking about” you drawl boredly, leisurely pouring yourself a drink.

                A hand grips your shoulder and spins you around just as a splash of water hits you in the face. The bottle of scotch you were holding clatters on the counter and spills over.

                You clench your jaw, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, already completely over these two being here and now you were sopping wet with a mess on your counter to boot.

                “Who are you?” the one taller one, who could only be Sam, asked. You seemed to remember Crowley referring to him as ‘Moose’ at some point, and now the nickname made sense.

                “I’m soaking wet is what I am” you seethe, wiping the water from your face with the sleeve of your robe.

                “Alright, cut the crap. Who are you, and where is Crowley?” Dean snapped, his name surfacing in your memory.

                “Look, you literally barge into my apartment, breaking down my door instead of knocking like a civilized human being, you spill my drink, douse me in –what is this? Holy water? And then you bark orders at me while I stand here scantily clad in nothing but a robe? Yeah, I don’t think so. What’s left of the door is behind you, I suggest you use it” you spat dismissively, waving your hand toward the exit. Your eyes fall on the bodies of the two demons that stood watch over you shook your head. You didn’t know them but they were killed babysitting you, and the thought bothered your immensely.

                “Dean, we don’t have time for this. Someone was bound to hear all the commotion” Sam urged.

                “Maybe you should have thought of that before you kicked down my door, Samsquatch” you say to him, retrieving the small amount of scotch that had made it into the glass and holding it up to toast their idiocy before downing it.

                His brow furrowed at the insult, but then surprise crossed his features, “Wait, what did you call me?” he asked quickly.

                Quickly realizing your error you try to backpedal, “Sasquatch” you reply, swallowing back your rising anxiety.

                “C’mon Sam, she’s not exactly wrong there” Dean throws in, nudging Sam as he walked away to look around your place.

                “No, you didn’t. You called me ‘Samsquatch’ which means you know my name. You know who we are because you _do_ know Crowley” he reasoned, locking his eyes on yours like he could see the lie in them.

                Busted.

                You stood guiltily, looking away from him and unsure how to reply.

                “Sammy, we gotta move” Dean said suddenly, looking out the window down at the street, “We’re going to have company.”

                “So, what are we supposed to do?” Sam asked, looking for you to Dean.

                Dean crossed the room, picking you up around your middle and hoisting you over his shoulder, “You’re coming with us” he states.

                “Put me down!” you shriek, though you know very well it’s not going to happen. “At the very least let me put some clothes on!” You could only hope to stall them long enough for the cavalry to arrive.

                Dean growled in frustration as he carried you hurriedly down the hall, kicking open your bedroom door and dropping you to your feet.

                “So much for the damage deposit” you jest.

                “Grab some clothes, alright? You got 10 seconds” he instructed, turning his back slightly to give you at least an ounce of privacy.

                With little choice but to comply, you slip out of your robe and skirt, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt.

                “Okay, kidnapping can commence” you utter sarcastically.

                Dean moves to lift you up again but you forcefully push his hands away, “I have feet, I can walk” you state, making walking motions with your fingers.

                “Fine, but you try and bolt from us and we will hunt you down” he threatens, grabbing your arm and hauling you out of the room.

                You reply with a mocking two finger salute and head back to where Sam was waiting anxiously.

                “Let’s move” Dean shouts, ushering you towards the door.

                As you enter the hall you keep your eyes up to avoid looking at the demons littering the floor and let the boys steer you towards the elevators. Sam taps the ‘call’ button impatiently as you wait, carefully watching the rising numbers on the other elevators. They stand in front of you, knives in hand waiting for the elevator doors to open. When they do they are surprisingly empty, but a ‘ding’ behind you signals another elevator has arrived.

You make a move to run to the other elevator, but Dean is faster, pushing you into the empty elevator as he and Sam follow, pushing the ‘close door’ button. The doors shut in front of you just as the demons approach, and you begin the descent to the main floor.

                Once there the boys each grab an arm, spiriting towards the main exit with you in tow, throwing the door open and not looking back. Parked right outside is a shiny black Impala and they run towards it. Sam opens the passenger side back door, hurrying you in and jumping in behind you. Dean is already in the front seat, firing up the car and roaring down the street before you could give it a second thought.

                Eagerly looking over your shoulder you see a crowd of demons standing outside your building and you silently pity whichever one of them has to tell Crowley what happened.

                ** _~             *             ~             *             ~_**

                It had been three days since the Winchesters stole you away, and it had been exactly that long since you’d last spoken a word. The moment you were hauled into their car you clammed up, refusing to speak and biding your time until you found an opportunity to get away.

                Your refusal to speak didn’t stop them from trying. They went from good cop to bad cop, offering promises to let you go as soon as you told them what they wanted to know. It was all for naught as you refused to give them anything, so you were stuck with them.

                It was starting to get difficult, however. Your tough façade cracking as you hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink and the effects of which were exhausting. You lay on the backseat, head resting against the window as the boys drove out into the middle of nowhere to investigate an old barn in the dead of the night. You’d only been half listening to what they were saying as your stomach growled painfully.

                They pulled to the side of the road in the pitch black, casting weary glances at one another.

                “We can’t just leave her here” Dean threw out, gesturing towards you as if you were a lamp instead of a person.

                “Where is she going to go? She too weak to get far and it’s dark out” Sam shrugged.

                “She’s also sitting right here and can hear everything you’re saying” you reply, barely having the energy to think of a witty retort.

                Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, knowing full well that they didn’t have any other options. Dean threw his hands up in defeat and exited the car. Turning around to face you, Sam was apparently playing ‘good cop’ again.

                “I know you don’t want to be here, but running off right now will just get you lost or dead. We won’t be long, just stay here, okay?” he reasoned.

                “Whatever you say” you grumble, sliding down to lay flat on the backseat, staring up at the roof.

                Sam sighed and exited the car, leaving the window rolled down slightly for you like a dog being left in a parking lot while its master goes shopping. It didn’t help you feel any less pathetic.

                After a few minutes you peak your head up, trying to catch sight of the boys. Way off in the distance you can see the light from their flashlights bobbing around and figure they are far enough away that they wouldn’t see or hear you.

                Wearily you drag yourself up, pulling the door handle as slowly and carefully as you could, edging the door open a fraction at a time. While they were right in saying you were weakened and it was too dark to get far, it wasn’t enough to stop you from trying.

                Slipping your foot out of the car onto the ground, you find your muscles more fatigued than you had anticipated and you stumble slightly. A hand grips your biceps from behind to steady you and you mutter curses to yourself. You had thought you’d make it a little farther than that before they caught you.

                “Going somewhere?” a rough voice asks.

                You spin to see Crowley standing behind you, hand still around your bicep and a coy smirk on his face as if he hadn’t left you with those hunters for three days.

                “Where the Hell have you been?” you ask calmly, but not without some venom leaking into your tone. You stand upright and stretch your back out, feeling every ‘pop’ of your spine and shoulders blissfully.

                “Hell’s exactly where I’ve been” he replies, for a moment you thought you almost heard some guilt in his tone, but it’s gone in an instant and you brush it off.

                His eyes rake over you and with a snap of his fingers he disappears, only to reappear a moment later with a bag of greasy fast food. He hands it to you like a peace offering.

                “I’ve been stuck with these guys for three days, you never thought to come looking for me?” you ask. Saying it out loud made it hurt more than you originally thought. You open the bag and busy yourself grabbing a few fries as you get your emotions together.

                Crowley feigned a look of hurt, “You think I’d let them just run off with you and not keep my eye on you?”

                “Didn’t you, though?” you retort.

                “Darling, I’ve known where you were every minute of every day” he states smugly.

                You nod, figuring you should have known better, but in the moment it was easy to feel helpless. “If you knew where I was, why didn’t you come get me? Why would you just leave me with them?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for fear of what the answer might be. You lean up against the car and slide your foot back and forth on the dirt road while you nibble on your food.

                He seemed to have the answer well prepared in his mind, crossing over to stand in front of you to ensure he had your attention, “Out of anyone, you would be the one I trust most, pet. I didn’t leave you with them, per say, I was more making the most out of the situation hoping you might catch a few tidbits of information.”

                “You offered me as bait” you clarify and your temper boils.

                “I never” he scoffs defensively. “I didn’t know they would come to you looking for me, but it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Those boys have cost me more trouble than they are worth…” his tone softened and his eyes dropped. “I knew you could handle them, darling. You are so very good at handling things.”

                You look at him incredulously but can’t help being tickled by the smolder in his gaze and you roll your eyes, looking up at the sky and chuckling.

                “You don’t want to be angry with me, not when we could be doing something so much more fun… do you?” he offers in a low, raspy voice, running his fingers up your forearm. He takes the fast food bag from your grasp and tosses it aside.

                His touch brought a rush of heat to your skin and regardless of how you felt about his motives, reason gave way to desire and you sighed contentedly.

                He kisses you, arm wrapping around your waist to cup the small of your back, sliding you sideways along the side of the car. As he opens the back door you lean back to look from him, to the seat, and back again.

                “Here?” you ask slightly surprised.

                “Believe me, love, nothing would please me more than to sully the back seat of Dean’s ‘Baby’” he pointed out, his kisses trail along your jaw line. You can’t help but agree that you would take some small amount of pleasure in it as well.

                Easing yourself back to sit down on the edge of the seat you bite your lip, reaching up to grasp the end of his tie to bring his face down to yours. Your tongue trails his bottom lip and he chuckles darkly.

               Laying back on your elbows you quirk an eyebrow by way of invitation and unfasten the button on your jeans. An appreciative groan ripples from his chest and he puts his fingers through the belt loops of your pants and drags them down your body with maddening slowness, eyes trailing with his progress and drinking you in.

               He casts the pants into the front seat of the car and crawls up your body as you slide further into the car, his mouth lowers to kiss and nip his way up your leg and thigh, letting the scruff on his face scrub along you. Pausing at your panties he looks up at you, a look at no human could muster as the intensity of his demonic side shines through. You breath hitches and you find yourself swooning under his dominating position. He nuzzles between your legs, running the tip of his nose over the length of your dampening underwear. Kissing the fabric he presses his mouth to you and you can feel his heat seeping through to your skin. His right hand slinks around the hem, pulling them down and exposing you. The cool air of the night breezes through the car and you shiver as it blows over your sex.

               “I do so love to watch you squirm, darling” he breaths as his mouth lowers to you again, dragging his tongue around your folds and sucking gently.

               “Do you delight in tormenting me?” you ask, nearly delirious with desire.

               “Perks of the job, pet” he mutters, burying his face into you.

               His tongue swirls around, eliciting a gasp from you as it maneuvers skillfully. At first he only teases, glancing over your clit for fractions of a second, building up the necessity for his touch. One of your hands hangs on to the front seat of the car while the other comes behind his head, tugging and silently begging him to service your throbbing nerves.

               Lips suddenly wrap around your clit and suckle smoothly and you roll your hips into his touch. His hands slide up your thighs to cup your backside and hold you to him, squeezing and kneading you while his tongue strokes you.

               In the distance you think you hear the clatter of gunshots but it hardly registers as Crowley diligently attends to your every need, hitting all the right spots and keeping a steady pace.

               The sudden absence of his mouth has you frantic, searching for him, begging for the release that he already drew you so near to. He deftly works the button on his trousers, lowering them and his boxer briefs to his thighs and bringing his lips back up to yours.

               His cock is already hard and eager as he rubs it between your folds, gliding through the wetness and mixing it with his own precum. You’re anxious about him entering you since he hadn’t stretched you first, but you anticipate it all the same. He presses at your opening, easing in the tip unhurriedly, working it in and out to get you ready to take all of him. His lips cover yours as he pushes in farther, muffling your moan. It’s a mixture of pleasure and the right amount of pain as he spreads your walls.

               You grip the lapels on his suit, holding him close and kissing hungrily as he works his length inside you. Lifting your hips slightly grants him further access and he presses deeper yet, bottoming out deep inside you. An appreciative grunt issues from his lips and he kisses down your neck to your shoulder, then trails his tongue back up to the hollow behind your ear.

               As he thrusts into you, your walls hugging against him tightly you drag your hands up his back and under his shirt, digging your nails into his back as you struggle to hang on.

               His hot breath is at your ear, “Did you miss Daddy, darling?” he murmurs, his words punctuated by his movements.

               “Mhm” you moan loudly, his voice sending a trill of goose bumps up your spine.

               “Are you a good girl?” he asks, his breathing becoming more ragged and his thrusts erratic. His cock brushing over your g-spot with every stroke causing you such distinguished pleasure that he could have asked you anything and you’d agree.

               “I am” the words fall like a sigh from your lips.

               “Tell daddy. Tell daddy, you’re a good girl” he insists, a hand finding it’s way up your shirt and under your bra, teasingly rolling around your areola.

               “I’m a good girl” you resign, your own breathing coming in gasps as you refuse to climax without him.

               His blows come harder, his pelvis knocking yours and the desperation of his actions sends you crashing over, unable to delay it any longer. You bite down on his tie to keep from crying out in ecstasy. His comes only a moment behind you in one final thrust, cock rigid and pumping his liquid inside you as a few strangled breaths exhale from his nose.

               Your climax falls over you like nightfall, blocking out all the light and overthrowing your senses completely. Stars glisten and dance at the corners of your vision and each pulse of his length shoots pleasure spikes through your core out to every corner of your body.

               Slipping the tie from your mouth Crowley kisses you roughly, silently praising you.

               As he breaks the kiss he slides back out of you and eases out of the car, straightening himself up and fixing his pants. You retrieve your clothes and hastily slide them on while still in the backseat, then step out to stand before him. He looks as smug as ever, his post-coital hair only adding to his strangely charming nature.

               “Now that was better than being angry, now wasn’t it?” he asks somewhat mockingly.

               With a smirk you look sideways and him and shrug flippantly, but you can still feel the lingering sensations of your orgasm and the absence of his length inside you.  You had to tease him a little bit.

               “So, you’ll stick with the Winchesters?” he asks, smoothing down his suit. Right back to business, typical Crowley.

               “I think right now you could convince me of just about anything” you relent, placating his ego.

               He chuckles, bringing himself to stand face to face with you again, “Find out what you can, play nice if you have to… I’ll be sure to check in on you, make sure your demands are met.”

               You kiss him again and in the distance you can hear the boys returning. Without a word Crowley vanishes and you duck back into the car, closing the door behind you as quietly as possible.

               They return arguing back and forth about something but quieten as they approach, their eyes fix on you and there is a small amount of surprise in their gaze.

               “You actually stayed” Dean commented as he entered the car. “Guess I owe you ten bucks” he says to Sam.

                “Where am I going to go?” you reply, causing both Sam and Dean to jump, being that those were the first words you’d spoken in three days.

                “You’ve decided to talk?” Dean asks skeptically.

                You pretend to ponder over the question, “Perhaps. First I need some food though,” you begin, casting a sideways glance out the window where the bag of greasy food lay abandoned, “I’m starving.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Crowley has convinced you to play nice, you try to find ways to use the boys to your advantage. Upon realizing the way to get Dean on your side, a jealous Crowley appears to make sure that you know you are his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really any warnings. Definite Daddy-kink and some manipulation. Possessiveness. Shower Sex.

**Anything, Anything Part 3**

 

                Sitting in the backseat of the Impala nibbling on the food the boys had gotten for you, you could practically feel their curiosity hanging heavy in the air. The sky was still dark but dawn was not far on the horizon and you glanced back and forth between the two of them, wondering which would speak first as you finished off your fries.

                “So, what’s your name?” Sam piped up finally.

                Taking a sip of your drink to wash down the food, you swallowed slowly, wondering if you should tell them the truth or make up a name.

                “Y/N” you reply, coming to the decision that there was little to be gained from lying to them about your name.

                “Y/N, that’s a nice name” Sam repeated. You knew he was only saying that to try to put you at ease, making you feel as though you could trust him.

                “So what’s a girl like you doing hanging around Crowley?” Dean cut in, glancing away from the road and over his shoulder at you.

                Sam shot him a look and it’s obvious that he wanted to try to take the questions slow with you, not just jump right into it for fear that you would clam up again. His intention weren’t exactly subtle and you saw an opening to try and play the boys against each other. Biting your lip you slink back against the seat and stare at your hands fiddling in your lap, feigning the look of a girl who’d been through so much and didn’t want to talk about it.

                You couldn’t see what happened, but you heard a ‘smack’ in the front seat and Dean mumble something that sounded like ‘what?’ You bite the insides of your cheeks to hide your grin. Not exactly a smooth talker, that one.

                A moment later the car took a wide turn and pulled into the parking lot of a road side motel, the kind with giant neon mascot outside and advertising for hourly rates. You were having a hard time getting used to staying in these places, but it seemed that if you were going to help out Crowley, it was something that you were going to have to deal with.

                Sam opened the back door for you and you eased yourself out, stepping out onto the asphalt and stretching your tired frame. You slowly breathe in the cool night air and find yourself almost enjoying the strange turn that your life had taken. You’d seen more of the country in the last few days than you had in the last few years. If anything, you were probably more safe with these two that you were under the under the constant watch of your demon security guards, as was more than proven a few days ago.

                Dean gestured impatiently towards the door of their room and Sam followed you inside. They went through their typical routine of checking the room before Dean collapsed into a chair near the window and you flopped onto the bed.

                Sam looked you up and down, taking note of the haggard state you were currently in. The clothes you’d thrown on a few days ago were beginning to show their signs of wear and you desperately needed a shower.

                “Y/N, if you could just talk to us, tell us what we need to know this would all be over. You could go back home” Sam began, crossing the room to sit a comfortable distance from you.

                Dean perked up, sitting forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees, trying his best to look like he cared what happened to you.

                You looked back and forth between them, making your features delicate and wounded. Sam’s expression was considerably more genuine than Dean’s and you looked to him, figuring you could play into his weakness more than his brother.

                “You really want to help me?” you ask softly, searching Sam’s eyes for kindness.

                “Of course we do. But we can’t help you if we don’t know what we are dealing with” he explained, leaning in towards you.

                You nod, casting your gaze downwards, “Then I’ll help you… but you have to promise me something in return…” you begin, worrying at the edge of the frayed comforter as you twist it between your fingers.

                “Sure. Anything…” Sam says hesitantly, crinkling his eyebrows together and trying to catch your gaze.

                You feel the fake tears building in your eyes as your turn to look at up at him; “Don’t let him take me again.” Your lip quivers and you cover your face in your hands, sobbing softly into them.

                Through your fingers you can see Sam look back to Dean, who seems surprised and remarkably uncomfortable by your tears, and shrugs questioningly.

                “Don’t let who take you again? Crowley?” Sam asks, cautiously placing a hand on your shoulder.

                You nod and sniffle, taking your hands away from your face to wipe your nose. “He’s been keeping me prisoner for a long time now…” you divulge, chewing at your lip and staring at the floor.

                “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Sam asked sympathetically, pulling you into a hug.

                You fold your arms around him and bury your face into his shoulder, struggling to keep a straight face as he played right into your hand. “I didn’t think you’d be able to help me, and if Crowley finds out I told you anything…” you mumble into his shoulder as you start crying again.

                Sam rubs your back, falling silent and letting you cry into his shoulder. Even though you were lying through your teeth, something about crying and getting your pent up frustrations out felt oddly good. You didn’t know Sam, and from what you could tell you didn’t care for him much, but having his arms around you was strangely comforting and you couldn’t recall the last time someone other than Crowley had been near enough to touch you. It was a sad fact but you let yourself enjoy it none the less.

                When you felt you’d sobbed enough, you gently pulled away from Sam, dragging the back of your hand across your face to wipe away the wet patches under your eyes.

                “Dean, why don’t you go see if we can get her a change of clothes or something?” Sam asked and you felt a flutter of gratitude towards him.

                “No way, Sammy, that’s your deal. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her” Dean states, leaning back in his chair and pointing at you.

                It takes a great deal of effort on your part to keep from sneering at him, but you manage to hide it by wiping your eyes again. You made the quick decision that some time alone with Dean might offer you the opportunity to figure out how best to use him to your advantage and you smiled weakly at Sam.

                “Some clean clothes would be really nice…” you agree, sniffling again.

                Sam nodded, giving you a final pat on the shoulder before standing, “I won’t be gone long. If you need anything else, just let Dean know. We’re going to help you, okay?” he adds reassuringly before gesturing for Dean to follow him outside.

                Dean looks at you as if he’s unsure about leaving you alone, even for a moment, but follows Sam out the door. You can hear their muffled voices, but are unable to make out what they are saying. Boredly you wipe the remaining tears from your face and take a look around so see if there was anything to help pass the time. Seeing little more than a ratty bible on the nightstand you lay flat back on the bed and stare at the ceiling as Dean reenters the room.

                His hesitation can be felt hanging around him even without looking at him and your purse your lips, wondering exactly how to crack him. You sit up and hesitantly look up at him from under your lashes.

                “Would it be alright if I took a shower? I feel kind of gross…” you ask, trying to chuckle lightly.

                His jaw clenches and unclenches as if wary of the thought, but he nods, “Sure, you go do that.” It obvious he doesn’t trust you as far as he could throw you and you force yourself to keep your features frail and innocent, blocking out the hatred boiling up in you.

                As he looks away, turning his attention to the newspaper in front of him, you stand up and walk around the bed to the other side, turning your back before you start removing your clothing. You feel Dean’s curious gaze slipping over to you, and as you lean down to slide your pants off you steal a glance at him. His eyes are wide in surprise, but his gaze is focused so much that he doesn’t even see you looking at him, his attention focused solely on your skin.

                You swallow the smug and satisfied smirk you feel creeping to your lips as it becomes obvious exactly how you can break Dean and you pretend to not notice his hungry eyes devouring you.

                As soon as you are free from the clothing, without a backward glance you enter the bathroom and lock the door behind you, grinning ear to ear in the mirror on the wall. Crowley had told you to play nice if you had to, and you knew exactly the kind of nice Dean was weak to.

                Turning on the water you make the temperature slightly too hot and eagerly step under the stream, letting the heat seep into your skin wash away the grime of the last few days. You sigh contentedly and feel like Crowley would be proud of you worming your way between the Winchesters.

                Tipping your face up towards the shower head you close your eyes and the let the water run over your face. Slowly turning toward the wall, you feel along the edge for the tiny, single serving shampoo bottle, blinding letting your fingers explore.

                The sudden presence of someone behind you startles you and before you can gasp, a hand comes around to forcefully cover your mouth. A body presses up against your back and their chill skin shocks yours as they lean to push you up against the wall. Water still in your eyes you try to blink it out rapidly but are unable to see as you freeze under the grip of your attacker.

                “Hello, darling” a voice croons in your ear and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His tone heavy with lust and desire, sweeping over your senses like honey as you melt into his touch.

                Crowley’s naked form curves against the back of yours as he presses you roughly against the tiled wall, his one hand still over your mouth as the other slips around your hip and down between your legs.

                You struggle to catch your breath as your chest is compressed and your mouth is covered, but the excited trembling that ripples through you cannot be stopped.

                “You’re playing nice with the boys I see… maybe too nice” he says in a harsh whisper, slipping his middle finger between your folds and gliding it up and down with a little more force than necessary.

                Slightly confused by his statement and the possessiveness in his tone, you fight to clear your thoughts amidst his ministrations and can only bring yourself to nod. You begin wondering if perhaps you were playing your hand too quickly with the boys but were also curious how Crowley could have known.

                “You’re being a little bit naughty, aren’t you?” he asks gruffly, his lips right at your ear as the tip of his finger moves to swirl over your clit.

                Your knees quake and he presses himself into your back more firmly, wedging you between him and the wall to keep you steady. Slipping your tongue between your lips, you flick it against his hand as it covers your mouth and you nod again.

                It had always been obvious that he was protective over you, but you’d never seen him so rough and possessive. The fact that Dean was just on the other side of the door made the situation all the more deliciously wrong and a rush of heat flooded through you.

                “Don’t you ever forget… You’re mine now, Darling… All mine… All Daddy’s” he purrs, letting the words breeze through his lips and into your ear. Even with the near scalding water the warmth of his breath still swims over you and you bite down on the insides of your cheeks to keep from moaning out loud.

                The tantalizing movements of his fingers dip lower until they find your opening, teasing around it until you squirm against him, wishing you were able to reach him, to touch him. It became obvious that this wasn’t just a social call, he was asserting himself. He was dominating you so you knew you belonged to him and no one else. Regardless of what you had to do to get between the Winchesters, you would always be his.

                As the first finger eased into you, you were damn certain that you always would be.

                His thick, calloused digit pressed into your opening and you closed your eyes, unable to hold back your soft moan, savoring the feeling of having any part of him between your walls.

                At the mere noise he growled lowly, grabbing your arm to spin you around to face him. His lips instantly at yours, crushing against you with frenzied passion. You respond in spades, pleased that you’re finally able to face him and worm your fingers in his hair. His lips trail away, across your jaw line and down your neck to the hollow of your throat. The pleasant scratching of the stubble on his chin tickles and you bite back your grin.

                Wrapping one leg around his waist, you let your hand wander down between your bodies, finding his solid length standing at attention. Your fingers wrap around it and you breathe deeply.

                You’d forgotten how big he was.

                Slowly working your hand up and down his shaft he groans quietly into your neck. His hand reaching down to secure your leg around his waist as he slowly moves his hips in rhythm with your strokes.

                His free hand comes down to cover yours, slowing your movements and urging his length towards you. Not willing to waste any time you spread your legs slightly apart, easing him between your folds with deliberate slowness.

                The heat and intensity of his gaze turns and locks onto you and you can’t help but shudder under its latent power. Moving your hand away you let him take control, wanting him to dominate you, wanting him to show you time and time again you were his.

                He smirks, just a small quirk of his lips and he huffs out a small laugh. Leaning forward his lips worry at the flesh just below your ear as he rocks his hips slowly, just rubbing in between your folds without entering.

                “That’s Daddy’s girl” he muses, his voice distant and euphoric as he grips his shaft to bury himself into you.

                The thick head of his cock drives down and you fight to stifle your surprise. A fleeting moment of panic has you hoping Dean cannot hear and that Sam hasn’t returned yet, but as his length delves deeper and deeper into you, your worries and hesitation seem to vanish along with it. A soft, contended noise slips from his lips as if he’d missed the feeling of between your walls and he indulges in it.

                Gripping his shoulders for support you struggle to hang on through his rough and demanding thrusts. His low growls and groan are muffled by your shoulder as he nips and sucks at your flesh and you’re forced to bite your own tongue to keep from crying out in delight.

                 Steam builds up in the small, stuffy bathroom and your sweat mingles with the hot water slicking over both your bodies. Your names falls from his lips in praise as your tight walls cling to him as he works himself in and out of you in long, quick strokes. It’s apparent that he realizes the necessity for brevity and wastes no time further time with taunting.

                 Deft fingers find your clit again and expertly work it, and while you know that he must be close to completion, he’s obviously unwilling to climax before you do. Giving in and letting yourself go you delight in the exquisite feeling of his length buried within you and his perfectly tuned touch honing in on your every wanton desire.

                It’s not long before you’re choking down your elated screams and feeling your orgasm grip about his shaft, with him trailing just behind you. His desperate, sharply punctuated thrusts carry him over and he unloads deep within you in several strong pulsations.

                He’s still for a moment, taking a pause before pulling himself back to look at you.

                The heat of the water and the rushed, strenuous activities you’d just partook in, left you blushing and out of breath as you could hardly contain the grin from slipping to your face. Brushing the water away from your eyes he cups your chin, delicately pulling you forward for a light, doting kiss.

                “Tell me who are you” he says softly, hand still cupped under your chin while his thumb strokes your cheek.

                “Daddy’s girl” you reply obediently without hesitation.

                “Indeed, you are” he grins wickedly, letting his eyes trail over you once more before he vanishes as suddenly as he appeared.

                A door slams from the other room and you can tell it’s Sam returning. You make quick work of washing your hair and getting all traces of sex off your skin before stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel.

                Your sense of duty to your King feels heightened and as you look at yourself in the steamed mirror, and you know there is nothing you wouldn’t do to please him and earn his praise once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A renewed sense of duty to Crowley, your king, has you eager to get between the Winchesters and get them on your side. Perhaps a little too eager?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took forever for me to update... I know... More will come soon. Promise.
> 
> Warnings: Nothing really. Some heavy petting. Crowley gets a little growly. Reader gets into a little danger.

After the shower that was steamy in more ways than one, you found it difficult to muster up the look of a frail, wounded girl once more. Forcing your features to soften, you snuggled your towel around yourself and took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. Feigning modesty you tugged self-consciously at the towel and hid your gaze from the two boys.

                Sam cleared his throat with obvious discomfort and tossed the bag of clothes onto your bed.

                “I hope those work for you” he commented, pointedly turning his gaze away.

                It was obvious that Dean wasn’t shy about letting his eyes wander as you awkwardly grabbed the bag from the bed with a rushed ‘thanks’ and headed back into the bathroom, letting the towel slip just a touch to keep Dean on his toes.

                As you close the door behind you, you roll your eyes, tossing the bag into the small sink and feeling rather certain that whatever Sam had picked out for you would suit nothing even remotely close to your tastes.

Not to be disappointed, the bag revealed plain blue jeans and loose fitting black t-shirt. They fit comfortably enough but they do nothing to flatter your figure, so you tie a small knot in the back of the t-shirt, cinching the fabric to show off the curve of your breasts and a little mid-drift.

                You ruffle your hair in the towel to dry it off as best as you can and exit the bathroom once more, stealing one last glance in the mirror as your smirk at yourself. Playing these brothers was going to be all too easy.

                Sam and Dean had their heads close together in quiet conversation, breaking apart at the sound of your return. They look up expectantly and Sam’s expression softens.

                “The clothes fit okay?” he asks, grabbing a bottle of water from the table and passing it to you.

                You accept the bottle and nod, taking a slow, deliberate breath as you look down at the ground and try to compose yourself. Even though this was what Crowley had wanted and you knew that you weren’t putting him in any real danger, you felt a little sting in the back of your throat at the thought of divulging some of his secrets. You’d been tight-lipped about everything for so long and it almost felt like a betrayal to tell these two anything.

                “I think I know where Crowley might be…” you begin softly. You sit on the edge of the bed closest to the two brothers and their posture turns from casual to rigid.

                Getting right down to business, Dean doesn’t miss a beat. “Where can we find him?” he asks, his tone gruff as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

                Choosing your next words carefully you look to Sam, almost as if you ignored Dean completely. “I’m not sure if he still uses those places… but there are two hide outs near here that he keeps guards at all the time. He took me to one of them once…” your voice trailed off into what you imagined sounded like a tormented memory that you were desperate to suppress, but really all you felt was more guilt for the demons that were surely going to be killed during this escapade.

                Out of the corner of your eye you could see Dean turn to Sam, giving him a look as to urge you on.

                Sam gently pressed for more information, getting the locations and the possible number of guards there as you feigned to struggle for details. Immediately afterward, the boys began planning their next move and like rats in a maze they played into your plan and agreed to split up to investigate both.

                “Will you be alright on your own for a little while?” Sam questioned thoughtfully, turning his attention back to you.

                Your eyes went wide with shock and your breath caught in your throat, “I don’t want to be alone…” Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared up at Sam. “I promise I won’t get in the way, just please, I can’t be alone right now…”

                Sam and Dean exchanged glances and neither of them seemed to want to relent but as you started to sniffle, Sam sighed and nodded. “Sure, Y/N, you can come along with me…”

                “Would it be okay if I went with Dean?” you ask weakly, looking over at Dean who looked just as surprised as his brother.

                Before he could protest Sam replied, “Sure, whatever you want,Y/N.”

                You could tell Dean was trying hard to suppress his scowl and you did your best to smile slightly to him. “I won’t bother you I promise” you add in.

                Something in Dean seemed to soften and he nodded, “Sure, let’s get going then.”

                As you exited the motel room and Dean headed for his car, you realized Sam didn’t have an alternate mode of transportation, but that didn’t seem to faze him and he walked purposefully towards the other side of the parking lot. Maybe everything wasn’t so goody-two-shoes about these two after all.

                Dean reaches the car and makes to open the back door for you to climb in and it causes you to pause with some confusion.

                “Can I ride up front with you?” you ask innocently.

                It takes him a moment’s thought but he shrugs, “Sure, kiddo. Be my guest.” He moves to open the other door for you instead and you slide in.

                You hadn’t realized how much of the day was wasted in the motel room and the sun was low in the sky with dusk no more than an hour or two away. Dean climbed into the car beside you, keeping his eye cautiously on you.

                “You sure you want to tag along? I can’t guarantee this won’t get messy” Dean offers, turning his whole body to face you.

                The thought of the death of demons on your hands made your stomach churn, but you made a promise to your king and no lowly demon was going to stop you from keeping it. You could feel the heat pool between your legs just thinking about him and you had to mentally give yourself a shake and remind yourself of where you were.

                “I’m sure… I’m not scared” you state, squaring your shoulders as if to prove a point.

                He only nods before firing the Impala to life with a twist of his key and shifts his focus to the road. You settle in beside him comfortably and lament the loss of your cell phone. Though it wasn’t going to be a terribly long ride, but it would have been nice to have something to occupy your time. Instead you further plot out your next move as you stare out the window at the scenery passing you by.

                As the day dragged on into early night the silence in the car became as thick as butter and Dean cleared his throat.

                “So really, how did you end up with Crowley anyway?” he asked, stealing glances at you while trying to navigate the road.

                “I told you, I was his prisoner” you reply quickly, forgetting yourself and letting some of your annoyance seep in. Quickly back pedaling you through in, “It’s a long story…”

                “Give me the short version then” he pressed. His tone not exactly rude, just curious and he managed a small smile to you.

                “He killed my parents when I was a baby…” you answer, catching his gaze and holding it with your own.

                “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Dean began but you waved him off.

                “No, no, it’s okay. You didn’t know.” You chew your bottom lip and turn your gaze back to the window slowly.

                Hesitant to keep asking questions, but lacking the tact to actually stop Dean presses on, “So… what he just kept you around after that? Why?”

                You hadn’t really thought this would come up and you really didn’t have a good answer for him. Looking down at your hands you work quickly to think of a response.

                “I don’t really know” you say, deciding to keep your answer honest. “Guess maybe he thought he could use me…”

                The admission hung between you two and Dean was clearly at a loss for words. A beat later his hand reached over pausing for a moment before patting your knee.

                “Hey, it’s okay,” he began, pulling his hand back as you flinched under his touch. He readjusted his hands on the steering wheel and stared with a look of determination toward the setting sun, “We’ll get Crowley. Don’t worry.”

                The barely hidden malice in his voice made you shiver involuntarily and you could only bring yourself to nod as the car fell into a silence once more.

                Not too long after you spotted your destination in the distance and you sat up in your seat. Dean took that as confirmation that he’d found the right place and reduced the car’s speed, coasting gently down the dirt road to the long since abandoned warehouse.

                As the car crept to a slow halt you reached for the door handle.

                “No, no, you stay here. I can’t watch you and my own back” Dean firmly stated, reaching over your lap to get into the glove box and grab his gun and knife.

                “I can’t stay here…” you gesture around the car. It offered little protection with its glass windows.

                “You can and you will” Dean said with finality. He stretched to lean back over to the backseat to retrieve something and you were more than a little surprised when he held out a gun to you.

                “Know how to use one of these?” he asked. It’s written all over his face that he doesn’t want you to be in possession of a firearm, but he wasn’t about to leave you unable to defend yourself either.

                Nodding, you gingerly take the gun from him, looking it over before resting it on the dashboard in front of you.

                “Keep it close. If things go sour you use it, you got me?” he instructs, tucking his gun into his pants. He doesn’t wait for you to respond as he ducks out of the car, knife at the ready and he stalks around the building looking for an entrance. You roll your eyes and watch as he enters the main door of the warehouse and disappears from sight.

                No sooner does he vanish into the building does the passenger door fly open and a hand clap over your mouth.

                Naturally you would forget to even lock your door.

                Your first instinct told you it was probably just Crowley playing his little games with you again, but after only a brief second that thought was dashed away. The grip was too tight, painful even, the smug, heavy breathing coming from your assailant sounded nothing like his. That was when panic kicked in. Twisting and flailing your arms you tried to defend yourself, but having been caught so completely off guard they had you relatively pinned against them. You didn’t even have a second to grab at the gun you so foolishly left on the dashboard.

                “Oh, I’ve been waiting so long for this” their voice seethed into your ear. The stench of sulfur smashed you in the face and sent ice running through your veins.

                “Now, not only do I get to kill you, but that damn Winchester as well” they continued with a humorless laugh.

                Though you knew your struggles were in vain, it didn’t stop you from trying as they dragged you into the warehouse. The demon kicked open the door and you were face to face with Dean, whom you were surprised to see had already taken out the three demons inside.

                “Let her go!” Dean demanded, knife poised and ready to attack.

                The demon holding you captive only tightened his grip and you could see him smirking.

                “Oh, I don’t think so. This little bitch has caused me more than enough trouble. I’m going to kill her slowly and enjoy every single moment of it” they stated confidently as their grip on you tightened.

                You winced as pain shot through you, but refused to let out the anguished noise rising in your throat. It was not in your nature to just roll over and let someone hurt you, but it seemed the more you struggled the tighter his grip became until it was painful just to breathe. The desperation in your eyes did not escape Dean’s notice but he kept his cool, circling at a safe distance to assess the situation.

                The demon finally released his hand over your mouth only to tangle it up in your hair, forcing your head back so he could look at you.

                “I never understood why he kept you, you miserable thing” he spat as he sneered down at you.

                Not only was fear rippling through you, but also paranoia that he was dangerously close to revealing too much and blowing the plan entirely. You needed to think quickly, you needed to do something to throw him off so Dean could finish him. Killing the last three demons had clearly taken a toll on the hunter, but it was obvious that he was not even close to giving up or backing down.

                Before you could give it too much thought you did the only thing you could think of. Being face to face and so close to the demon you quickly spat in his eyes, causing him to snarl in frustration. Dean didn’t hesitate and ran forward to push you out of the way and stab the demon. The demon was quicker however, and he flung you harshly towards Dean, buying himself just enough to smoke out of his meat suit and disappear. Crashing into Dean, the demon hurtled you with enough force to send you both careening backward to topple over in a pile of tarps. Wrapping his arms protectively around you, Dean turned so he fell first with you on top of him, landing firmly against his solid chest.

                The hunter breathed heavily, arms still circled around you as he assessed the area around him for further threat. Without realizing it, your arms had snaked around his body, seeking comfort after being in such a situation. More to your surprise was the feeling of safety you felt with him and how the idea of being that close to him didn’t repulse you as much as it previously had.

                _“Must be the adrenaline”_ you think to yourself, searching for a logical explanation.

                You both took your time catching your breath but you didn’t let go of your hold on Dean, leaning your head against his chest. When his arms finally relaxed and it was clear that the danger had gone, you let out a small sigh of relief.

                “You okay?” he asked quietly, tipping his head down to look at you.

                You merely nodded, unwilling to move your head from his chest as you had him exactly where you wanted him. His musky scent from getting worked up in battle was oddly pleasant to you and you inhaled deeply.

                “You saved me” you whispered, glancing up at him from under your lashes.

                “Yeah, all in a day’s work” he shrugged, awkwardly patting your back as if he thought you were going to let go.

                Instead you ran your nose under his jaw line, finding some strange pleasure in that intoxicating smell of his. Your grip around him became soft and tender and you could see his pulse pounding in his neck.

                Dean followed along with the shift in the atmosphere, though it appear to confuse him how you changed your obvious view of him so quickly.

                “I was so scared” you breathed, letting your lips drag along his throat.

                He shuddered as the warmth of your breath slid over his flesh. Pulling back he stared into your eyes, searching for something you couldn’t place. His pupils dilating with desire as you licked your lips. You found yourself mesmerized by the brilliant green of his eyes, his contoured cheeks with a light sprinkling of freckles, his full pink lips…

                You didn’t hesitate to lean forward, closing the distance between you as you delicately kissed him, testing the waters to see how he would react. Only a beat behind you, he kissed you back, staring at you in wonder when your lips broke apart. Holding his gaze you looked back and forth between his eyes, silently pleading for him to make a move. You reposition yourself to put your legs on either side of his, straddling his waist and lowering yourself to rub against him. The stiffness underneath his tight jeans gives him away and the moment your backside grazes over his pelvis, his lips find yours again.

                Dragging your hands up his back you weave your hands into his hair, letting its smoothness glide between your fingers before tightening your grip. His hands find your hips and slide up under the back of your shirt. His cold fingers sending a race of goose bumps across your skin and you gasp delightedly.

                Dean’s tongue dips out to find yours and you exhale hard. You feel his length stroking your core through both your jeans and you press yourself down against it wantonly. His rough, calloused fingers begin to ease your shirt upward and you completely lose yourself in the moment.

                “Hope I’m not interrupting anything” a familiar voice sounds from behind you.

                You let out a shriek and roll off of Dean, eyes frozen in terror as Crowley’s menacing glare bores down at you. You’d only been doing what he had asked you to do, but perhaps you had taken it a little too far… and perhaps you were enjoying it a little too much.

                Dean collects himself much quicker than you do and is ready for a fight in a moment.

                “What do you want, you son of a bitch?” Dean demands as he positions himself between you and Crowley. His knife is back in his hand and suddenly you worry that he might actually hurt Crowley.

                “I want what you’ve stolen from me” Crowley says calmly, though you know that tone all too well. He is livid and is just barely restraining himself.

                “Over my dead body” Dean threatens.

                “Now that… can be arranged” Crowley replies, a smirk finding its way to his lips.

                Dean doesn’t flinch and Crowley looks from him to you, still lying like a helpless damsel amidst the disused tarps.

                Crowley’s face betrays nothing of his motives and you aren’t sure, but it seems as if he’s genuinely angry with you… and the feeling terrifies you down to your very core. A deadly silence falls over the three of you as Crowley looks between you both as if deciding what to do.

                “Make no mistake, Dean; I will get back what is mine…” Crowley begins, his voice so low he nearly growls.

                His eyes turn to you, no hint of love or affection graces them, only a cold disposition of an owner trying to reclaim his property.

                “And when I do,” he continues, “Well… you can bet there is going to be Hell to pay…”


End file.
